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MONTREAL - I receive quite a lot of emails from readers. While some are quite specific to pairing wines with their meals, I do receive some more general questions that I feel might be interest to all of you. Here is a question that I am often asked.

Dear Bill: I recently started drinking and liking, I might add, wines from Europe. In the past, I usually bought cabernet sauvignon and shiraz from Australia or California. When I drink white wine, it’s most often chardonnay. I know that’s boring, but I like “oaky” wines, though you have made me aware that some wines are too “oaky.”

My big problem when shopping for French wines in particular is that the grapes are never listed on the label. Why is that? And in which regions can I find my beloved shiraz and chardonnay?

Marie

Hello Marie: Good on you for trying new wines, and I sympathize with your problem. For years, I have been calling for better labelling on bottles. More wineries need to understand that people are genuinely interested in knowing what they are drinking. Unfortunately, all too often, the information is not always there.

I would love to see much more detailed information about how the wine was made, and about where the grapes came from. Right now, as I will explain later, there are way too many loopholes available to wineries. But with respect to European labels where only the appellation is written, why do they not list the grapes used in making the wine?

The principle reason, and I can understand their reasoning to a certain extent, is that most European wineries are relatively small, and make wines from a single area or appellation. Many wines in the New World, especially those made by bigger wineries, are made with grapes that are sourced from much larger areas. The European thinking is that the wine in the bottle is supposed to reflect where the grapes were grown. For them, the grapes are simply ways of expressing this place or specific terroir (soil, climate, geography).

So in practical terms, when you buy a Chablis, you are drinking a Chablis and not simply a chardonnay (which is the only grape used in making a Chablis). If you buy a wine from Pouilly Fuissé or Meursault, which like Chablis are also in Burgundy and made entirely with chardonnay, you will be drinking a radically different wine.

Chablis is a much cooler climate and with different soils, and the wines are almost always unoaked. Further south, Pouilly and Meursault make much richer wines that are raised in oak. And compared with the vast majority of Californian chardonnay, where the fruit profile is much more exotic and textures even richer, the differences are even more marked.

Syrah, the French name for your beloved shiraz, is grown throughout southern France. Sometimes, like in the northern Rhône region, it is the only grape that is grown. In the southern part of the Rhône, syrah is blended with grenache and mourvèdre. The difference between the two wines can be quite marked, as northern syrah tends to be more floral, with redder fruit, while southern syrah can be quite dark and tannic, and tinged with earthier flavours like black olives.

Go further south into appellations like Minervois, or the Côteaux du Languedoc, and you will also find syrah blended with such grapes as carignan, grenache and a host of others. Again, the syrah gives a very different expression.

The bottom line is that if you are buying solely on the grape, your expectations of what you are getting might not match what’s in the bottle.

For the French, the place comes first over the grape. That being said, they have to understand that North Americans have been raised to a certain extent on labels where the grape variety is the main selling point.

But you should also understand that varietal labelling is not a perfect system either, and what they tell you on the label isn’t always the whole story. For instance, depending on which country you are in, the wine need only contain 75 per cent to 90 per cent of the grape listed. The same goes for the origin of the grapes. Depending on the appellation, sometimes as little as 75 per cent need only be grown in that place. So does your pinot noir have syrah blended with it? Is that why you may like it better? Who knows, because wineries do not have to list the other grapes on the label.

And ultimately, you still need to know and be aware of the country of origin, and sub-regions to fully understand why a wine tastes like it does. A cabernet sauvignon from New Zealand is different from one from France, California or Chile. Equally, there are differences between, let’s say, Napa Valley and Sonoma.

The place still trumps the grape. So, Marie, I, too, would like every wine in the world to, at a minimum, list the percentage of and which grapes were used in making the wine. That being said, that info still only gives you half of what you need to know.

Bill

Suggestions: Silky texture, bright fruit and power of grenache

One of my favourite grape varieties is grenache. When grown right, it combines a silky texture, bright fruit, and at times, some real power.

Here are a few wines tasted recently that do justice to this great grape and will improve with some cellar time.

Lirac 2010, Jean-Paul Daumen, France red, $27.45, SAQ #11873211. High-octane grenache. For those people who complain that grenache can't be "big," well, try this. Layers upon layers of alcohol-bathed dark cherries and spice. Alcohol has almost a cooling effect. Tannins are very ripe and round, adding to the weight. Lots of wine here. Serve at 18 C. Drink now-2018. Food-pairing idea: leg of lamb.

Gigondas 2009, La Gille, Perrin et Fils, France red, $30.50, SAQ #10267905. 2009 is a very ripe year, so for those of you who prefer power over finesse, it's a great vintage. This shows a much meatier texture, darker fruit and with just a faint mineral note. A bit more obvious than the 2008 and a touch fleshier. Serve at 18 C. Drink now-2018. Food-pairing idea: filet mignon with spice.

Campo de Borja 2010, Garnacha, Alto Moncayo, Spain red, $41.75, SAQ #10860944. From the colour, I was expecting an overblown, over-oaked and over-concentrated wine. But, no, this is richly textured, silky, with a chalky mineral note on the finish. Powerful flavours, yes, but only from old vines can you get this depth and sheer power from grenache. This wine will be fantastic in just a few short years. Serve at 18 C. Drink now-2020. Food-pairing idea: rib steak.